


We save the world

by impalabro



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 01:17:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalabro/pseuds/impalabro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re standing on the top of all things, kings of the hunters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We save the world

It’s a particularly clear night out there, and the cool September air ruffles the grass that Dean is lying on. His shirt is damp against his back, but he doesn’t register it, because his attention is turned towards the sky. The clouds are thin tonight, giant translucent veils over the crescent moon, shielding the stars from sight. _We’re made from stardust_. It was one of those facts that Sam liked to throw at him, but this one had stuck with him more than the rest. _Elements heavier than iron were formed following the supernova of stars, which scattered those elements across the universe._

His breath frosts above him. Inside a little dusty safe in his head the numbers whirl round and round, chains of figures twisting together into double helixes. Individual faces spring into recall, and voices peal forth, as clear and terrible as the blunt sight of a beravened corpse. The spirits of the people live on in half-life, animated only by Dean’s determination to keep them there.

The tread of a booted foot makes itself known through steady thumps in the ground. There’s a rustle of material and suddenly a living, breathing entity claims the spot next to him.

“Nice night,” Sam offers, nudging his brother’s left foot with his right.

The monsters of the night seem less hostile with each breath that Sam lifts from his chest. It’s the same comfort Dean has learnt to love during the bittersweet respites in motel rooms with Sam sleeping on the bed next to his, the kind of security that comes with sharing a space with another person.

A shooting star flies across the sky, but Sam’s eyes are focused on the figure lying beside him, whose eyes trail the faint path in the darkness, whose hand he’s hung onto as far back as he can remember.

“You know,” Dean begins, “we save the world.”

Some unexplainable noise stutters out from the back of his throat. It makes his eyes close for a split second, his head shake, and for a few brilliant moments, the enormity of the sentence encapsulates everything. He isn’t lying down in the grass with his brother, no. They’re standing on the top of all things, kings of the hunters. They’re better than the angels who sit piously on daddy’s lap, better than the demons that are bred to double-cross, better even though they’re more broken than any of them.

“You know, we do,” and Sam laughs.

 


End file.
